Chances Are
by wolf with panther eyes
Summary: Lovino Vargas had a normal life. At least, until a Spaniard shows up, claiming that he knows Lovino - much to the Italian's annoyance. But as things start changing rapidly, he figures Antonio might just be telling the truth afterall... AU, Spamano
1. Chapter 1

Well, this is my first fanfic in forever. I'm still working on a plot, so any future chapters will just be ad-libbing until I can come up with one - think of it as an experiment to get me writing again.

Enjoy!

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><p>Lovino Vargas had never cared for love.<p>

Of course, he had attempted to love in the past. He posessed the usual string of ex-girlfriends that any Italian man in the prime of his life had, but now any relationship was kept to flirting or, if Lovino was feeling generous, a one-nighter. Lovino had decided early on that he didn't like the type of commitment that a closed relationship brought – a girl that clung onto his every word was fine, wonderful even, but a girl who constantly wondered why he had stopped being so charming towards her soon got boring. Lovino was a successful flirt because he could easily hide his usual persona beneath the charming personality that emerged when confronted with a pretty girl - his usual persona being a grumpy, easily irritated, loud-mouthed young man who tended to keep to himself.

He mostly stuck to flirting, earning himself the nickname of a womanizer within the streets of the town he lived in. Lovino carried that name with pride, knowing that those local girls who knew his name avoided him, while the lonely tourists who had never heard of his reputation would flock to his kind and flattering words. Sometimes, when he was particularly restless, he would entice such a woman to his bed, tempting her with good food and fine wine – always a tourist, never a local. Lovino had brought a local girl home once, entranced by her beauty, and had paid for it with tears.

Lovino was a womanizer, nothing more than a one-night stand. Before the sun rose, he would always be dressed and long gone, leaving behind only a note thanking her for last night, hoping she enjoyed the rest of her visit to Italy, and could she please be dressed and gone before he returned home?

He had decided long ago that he didn't care for love. Love was something that happened to idiots, like that little brother of his that was obsessed with his long-lost childhood sweetheart. Feliciano and Ludwig. Lovino would scowl instantly whenever either of their names were brought up. He hadn't seen his little brother since Lovino had moved out of home and towards the south of the country, and although he read every letter Feliciano sent him, sometimes taking hours to decipher his brother's scrawled but beautifully curved writing, he barely replied. Lovino was happy being alone, spending his evenings working at his beloved restaurant and his days wandering through town, picking up women, sipping his favourite wine and reading romance novels - not that he would ever admit he read them. If he ever felt the urge to relax in a café and read there, he would slip a different dustjacket over his novel, and even then he would sometimes blush if he thought a person was reading over his shoulder.

Sometimes, those novels made Lovino wonder what it was like. To love someone so entirely and give yourself to them in the way the books would describe. But then he would slam the book shut, putting it to one side and instantly pushing all thoughts of love to the back of his mind.

Lovino did not want to fall in love. Nor did he believe he would ever fall in love.

And it was at this point in Lovino's contented life that a certain Spaniard waltzed in and decided to mess the whole damn thing up.


	2. Chapter 2

Firstly, thank you for everyone who's already subscribed to this! I think I've worked out a rough plot in my head now, so without further ado, here is the next chapter.

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><p>It had been an average day. Lovino had finished his shift at work and was currently shrugging on his coat, uncomfortably hot from the heat of the kitchen and the sweat he had worked up. He waved a hand to his boss, who gave him a sharp nod in return. Lovino liked his boss, not that he'd ever admit it – the guy was strict, expecting orders to be carried out that left no room for improvisation. For Lovino, lazy by nature, the discipline worked surprisingly well, leaving no wiggle room for him. Of course, he moaned about it, but then again, he moaned about everything. Just so long as the customers in the dining room didn't hear Lovino's complaints, the boss let him say whatever he wanted.<p>

Lovino stepped into the chilly air, shivering involuntarily. It was much colder than he had thought – that cold front the weatherman had been warning about for the last fortnight must have finally blown in. He shoved his hands into his pockets, trudging along the street that would lead back to his flat. Although it was dark, the streetlights were bright, and there was the constant noise of people nearby: Lovino could hear the laughter of the people at the nearby bar, probably drunk. He thought for a moment about flipping them off, as he did sometimes when he had suffered through a hard night of working with a forced smile on his face for the customers, than decided to leave them be this time. His job waiting tables hadn't been that hard tonight, since there had only been a few customers. Business always grew quiet during the winter months; people tended to want skiing during December, and there were no ski resorts down this far south.

Lovino heaved a sigh, glancing up at the sky. He could just make out a few stars above the glow of the streetlights – a clear night, no wonder it was so chilly. He heard some voices behind him growing louder and tensed slightly as he recognised a German accent among them. He had always disliked the Germans, and he wasn't entirely sure why. Of course, it didn't help that Feliciano was head-over-heels in love with one… He ignored the voices and continued walking, thinking bitterly of his brother. It had been a while since he had received a letter from him, maybe Feliciano had forgotten about him? Or in a better scenario, maybe Feli had come to his senses and was going through a complicated break-up? Lovino was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the arms snaking around his waist until he was jerked backwards into someone's tight embrace.

"I found you!" The person who was hugging him was speaking quickly in accented Italian, his voice high and excited as Lovino let out an ear-splitting yell, struggling frantically to get away. "Mi pequeña princesa!" The stranger continued, switching to another language Lovino recognised almost instantly – Spanish. Lovino had taken Spanish in high school, and he'd actually become pretty good at it, but he hadn't heard anyone speak it in years. And this stranger was calling Lovino his… his princess? Lovino's cheeks flared up and he gained control of himself, delivering a sharp jab into the ribs of the man holding him. Thankfully, it worked; the Spaniard gasped and instantly let go, staggering backwards as Lovino darted out of his grasp.

"T-that wasn't nice!" The Spaniard wheezed, massaging his chest as he recovered.

"I don't care if it was fucking nice or not, you bastard!" Lovino shot back, every sense on alert as adrenaline raced through his body. He stared at his assaulter for the first time, taken aback by his appearance – he was only a young man, maybe a few years older than Lovino.

The Spaniard glanced up at him, still rubbing his injured ribs as he straightened up. "But you just attacked me when I was trying to be friendly…!" He objected, gazing at the Italian with wide eyes. "It's not meant to be this way…" He added to himself in a lowered mutter.

For some reason, Lovino felt his already-flushed cheeks grow even redder under the other man's intense gaze. "What the fuck do you mean? You just freaking attacked me in the middle of the street!"

The other man looked horrified at the suggestion. "Ay, no, Romano! I didn't attack you, I was just –" He instant stopped talking, clasping a hand over his mouth before lowering it slowly. "Nevermind."

Lovino twitched. He had just been scared out of his mind after a complete stranger hugged him without warning, and now he was confused. "You must be mistaking me for someone else, bastard! My name's Lovino, not Ramano or Romano or whatever the hell you just said."

The Spaniard blinked. "L-Lovino…?" He tried it out, rolling the word in his mouth. "Not Romano?"

Lovino groaned heavily, brushing his coat down. "Yes, LOVI-no." He raised his eyebrows, checking what he had in his pockets – mobile, half-used tissue, ipod, wallet, keys. Maybe he could chuck the mobile at the guy if he came closer? Gouge him with the keys? Feeling slightly more protected, he added briskly "You've got the wrong Italian, so go back to wherever you're staying and don't DARE attack me again!"

The Spaniard was looking just as puzzled as Lovino felt. There was something unthreatening about that downcast look on his face – not that Lovino would fall for that, all the best bad guys could act. "But… Roma… Lovi!" He quickly corrected himself. "Don't you remember anything?"

Lovino raised his eyebrows. Well, this one was new. "Remember what, bastard?"

"Ay… you, me, all that we went through!" The man waved a hand between them both. "You don't remember me at all?"

"Of course I d-!" Lovino's words were cut off as the Spaniard darted forward and kissed him without warning, and for a moment the world stood still. Lovino was too stunned to do anything, and then the next thing he knew, he was kissing back, gripping the Spaniard's sleeves to hold him close, and then ohgod, was that his _tongue _against Lovino's lips…? Lovino quickly brought himself back to reality, shoving the other man away and punching him in the jaw. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?" He exploded, his face as red as a ripe tomato.

The Spaniard was wincing in pain, rubbing his jaw and stepping back quickly. "I-I just thought true love's kiss might work…!"

"Who the fuck are you even?" Lovino hissed, spitting at the ground before rubbing his mouth frantically. "Do you just assault EVERYONE who crosses your path? You fucking jerk!" He was breathing heavily now, still reeling in shock from the fact that this man had just kissed him. A _man_. Feliciano would be laughing so hard if he had seen that: his brother, the great womanizer, caught kissing a man in broad daylight… streetlamp-light, anyway.

"Antonio," the other man spoke up, interrupting Lovino's panicked thoughts. "Antonio Fernández Carriedo, mi princesa! I have been –"

"Don't fucking call me that!" Lovino snapped, gripping his phone in his pocket tightly and trying to force himself not to throw it at him. "I can understand Spanish, and I am not a damn princess, nor am I a girl!"

The Spaniard – Antonio – nodded at that, still wincing as he caressed his jaw. "You punch just like her, though…" He murmured, and to Lovino's disbelief he noticed the man was smiling slightly. "I guess you really don't remember… Gil tried to tell me, but I thought…!" He sighed, dropping his hands to his sides. "I'm moving into town, shall we start afresh tomorrow?"

Lovino stared. He just stared.

He was tired, he was hungry, he was still blushing madly from embarrassment and rage, and this man who had assaulted him and caused all these problems wanted to meet him tomorrow. Was this Antonio for real, or was someone playing a really stupid joke on him?

"I don't care if I NEVER see your ugly face again, jerk!" He snapped, turning on his heel and stomping off back in the direction of his flat. He heard no footsteps behind him, but didn't stop until he was a good few streets away before he finally stopped, quickly checking behind him in case he was being followed. To his relief, there was no sign of anyone except a stray cat.

"Thank god…" He muttered, heading for his flat. He ran the tip of his tongue over his lips as he headed up to the door and let himself in, wincing slightly at the taste on his lips – a sweet, warm, spiced taste that definitely hadn't been there before his encounter with that insane Spaniard.

And even though he brushed his teeth nonstop for nearly half an hour, he could still taste it on his mouth as he lay in bed, trying to get Antonio's face out of his mind as he slowly fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

"Fucking bastard," Lovino muttered, shoving wet hair out of his eyes as he stuck out his tongue at his fogged-up reflection in the mirror.

"That idiot," he muttered as he tugged his shirt on, expertly doing up the buttons in a manner of seconds.

"Who the hell does he think he is?" He muttered as he grabbed a tomato from the fridge, slumping down on the end of his bed. It had been an hour since he had awoken, and so far all his thoughts had been of that stupid Spaniard. It didn't help that he had had some weird dreams last night, dreams that he had thankfully forgotten in his still-burning anger for Antonio.

Lovino had never met Antonio in his life before last night; THAT he knew for certain. So why had that bastard acted like he knew him? And calling him by that stupid name as well, Romano or whatever it was… The Spaniard must have mistaken him for something else. That was the only explanation. Lovino would probably never see him again. The Italian gave a small satisfied nod, taking a bite of his tomato and savouring the sweet taste. No need to be hasty and start panicking over some guy he'd never met before in his life.

Nonetheless, Lovino was restless throughout most of the morning. He tried to watch some television, but all that resulted in was endless channel surfing as he groaned and wished something decent was on for a change. He attempted to continue reading the tacky romance novel he had bought the other day at a second-hand store, but he couldn't get into the story, especially when the author was describing the hero with "gleaming, chiselled abs the colour of a sun-kissed morning sky". Antonio had been tanned, he thought for a moment, and then he flung the book at the opposite wall in fury that he had even had that thought, that he had even bothered to notice little details like that.

Growing ever-frustrated within his small flat, Lovino finally gave up. If Antonio was still outside, then fine, Lovino didn't care, but he was going to go get himself some food and damn the Spaniard if he even thought to interrupt Lovino's lunch hour.

He trudged through the streets, hands shoved firmly into pockets, his spirits only rising as the man who had become the bane of Lovino's existence within less than twenty-four hours refrained from jumping out from a bush or something. It looked like he had left, thankfully, and Lovino had to bite his tongue to hold back his sudden grin.

"Lovino!" A voice behind him suddenly chirped, and Lovino let out a startled yelp and instantly twisted around, swinging out with his fist and catching Antonio heavily on his jaw in the same place he had hit him last night.

The Spaniard stared at him for a moment, stunned, and then whimpered, clutching his face. "L-Lovi, why do you always go straight for the face? I just wanted to say hi!"

Lovino was glaring at him, his hazel eyes narrowed in anger. "Look, fuck you, whoever you are! I told you to get lost! What are you even doing, trying to follow me?" He shoved his hands into his pockets again, searching for something he could use as a weapon. He should have brought the pepper spray… did he even OWN pepper spray anymore? Dammit, he was buying some pepper spray as soon as he could!

"I just wanted to say hi!" Antonio repeated, looking hurt as he massaged his jaw, and Lovino was unable to hide the small twinge of pleasure when he saw that there was already a faint bruise against the Spaniard's tanned skin. "I want to be friends, if that's okay."

"It's not freaking okay!" Lovino snapped back, recoiling at the prospect of having to spend any more time with him than he needed to. "Why're you so obsessed with me all of a sudden, huh? It's weird! You're mistaking me for someone else." He spun on his heel, stalking off. Fuck Antonio. If the Spaniard followed him again, he'd receive a quick to the crown jewels, and see how Antonio liked THAT.

"You love tomatoes!" Antonio shouted behind him, and Lovino stopped dead. It wasn't like that was a secret, but for this stranger to yell that out at random – Lovino loved tomatoes, yes, but they weren't the most important things in his life.

"So?" Lovino yelled without looking back, walking forwards again. He heard the quick tread of footsteps that weren't his own and groaned as he realised Antonio was following him.

"You're scared of turtles! You swear all the time!" Antonio sounded desperate now, sprouting random phrases – and yet to Lovino's disbelief, they were true. But anyone could have figured them out.

"You have a cute younger brother who's in love with a German!" Antonio added, sounding a little breathless as he reached Lovino's side, keeping a good distance in case Lovino struck out at him again. "You never felt like you were as good as him!"

Lovino stopped dead for a second time. He had never told anyone in this town about Feliciano… never. Unless Antonio was a dedicated stalker and had hacked his phone or email, he couldn't possibly had known – unless maybe he had spoken to Feliciano himself. He gritted his teeth, throwing back his shoulders and glancing at Antonio squarely in the eye. "You know my brother?"

Antonio stared back, for a moment looking surprised that Lovino was going along with him, like a deer in the headlights. Then he nodded eagerly, his usual stupid grin returning. "Sí! Of course I know him! I know him the same way I know you, Lovi!"

"Stop it with the stupid nickname!" Lovino retorted, scowling heavily. "And you don't know me at all, so stop acting like you do. Did Feliciano tell you I was down here?"

Antonio kept nodding. "Ludwig's brother is a friend of mine, so he found out that way! And now we've found each other again, right…?" He sounded a little uncertain for once, gazing at Lovino as if he expected the Italian to suddenly fall into his arms and agree with him.

Well. Fat chance of that happening.

"I don't know who the fuck you are or what you want with me, I just want you to leave me and my brother alone!" Lovino snapped instead, pushing back his fringe as the bangs fell across his eyes. "Do I look like I care about you at all? No? It's because I don't give a fuck!"

Within a split second Antonio had darted forward, grasping Lovino's hands tightly between both of his own. "Lovi, please, please remember me," he pleaded, trying desperately to meet Lovino's eyes. "Romano? Romano, come back to your Antonio, por favour…"

Lovino stared at him, and for some reason he didn't pull his hand away instantly. His skin was tingling uncomfortably where Antonio's hands where touching it, and for a moment he did feel like darting forward into the Spaniard's embrace.

_A murmur, so soft that it could be mistaken for a breeze. _

_A laugh, the laugh that he loved more than anything to hear._

_A warm taste of spices and tomatoes in his mouth…_

Lovino came back to his senses with a jolt.

"Get the fuck away from me!" he hissed, bringing his knee up firmly into the other man's groin and tearing his hand away at the same time. "Don't talk to me again, don't talk to my brother again, just get the hell away from here!"

He turned heel and ran back towards his flat, desperate to get away, desperate to clear his head and curl up and just shut everything out. All he wanted to do right now was go back to pretending that the events of the last twenty-four hours had never happened. He didn't know what was going on or even what he had to do with it, but Lovino hated it. He didn't even bother looking back at Antonio – the yelp of pain had been sufficient enough for him. The bastard would have to crawl back to wherever he was staying.

He shoved his way into the flat, firmly locking the door behind him before heading to the bathroom to wash his face, trying his hardest not to think about what had just happened. His cheeks felt hot to the touch; he glanced up to see their familiar redness in the mirror, his chest still rising and falling quickly as he adjusted from the quick sprint to standing still. He groaned, running his hands back through his hair.

And then he stopped, his eyes suddenly widening in shock.

Sticking out from the side of his head was a small curl of hair that was refusing to lie flat. Lovino was used to gelling it down, and he wasn't surprised to see that it had sprung up again. That wasn't the problem, though.

What had happened was that Lovino had shoved the curl back along with the rest of his hair, and in that same instant his knees had gone weak, his cheeks had flushed even redder and a small moan had escaped his lips as a sudden wave of heat swept through his entire body.

Lovino hesitantly ran his fingers along the same curl and felt a less powerful rush through his body, but still enough to cause him to grit his teeth in an attempt not to moan again.

"…w-what the fuck," he muttered, staring at his reflection. He didn't need this. As if Antonio wasn't enough.


End file.
